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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562249">guide me through the motions (i want to feel your touch)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyckolodeo_n/pseuds/nyckolodeo_n'>nyckolodeo_n</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Equestrian, Miscommunication</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:47:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562249</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyckolodeo_n/pseuds/nyckolodeo_n</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am such a genius; you can thank me now, Snoozles,” she says, sitting tall with pride. When neither Katara nor Sokka reply, both busy giving each other inquisitive looks, she huffs and continues on. “Uncle has a barn; you can ride there. His prices are a little steeper than Pakku’s, but I’m sure he’d be willing to make something work. As a special favor to his favorite adopted daughter.” She’s beaming at them, clearly very proud of herself, but Sokka doesn’t know if it’s such a good idea. Sokka could barely afford Pakku’s rates as it was; he doubts he’ll be able to afford whatever the infamous ‘Uncle’ charges.</p><p>But then he thinks about his mother.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aang/Katara (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong &amp; Zuko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>guide me through the motions (i want to feel your touch)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello everyone! So before we get into this fic, I’m very aware that the art of being an equestrian and the ins-and-outs of riding and showing and all that stuff is not just common knowledge to everyone, so this is a kind of “Equestrian 101” before you start reading so you can kinda understand what’s going on as you read along.<br/>1. Equitation is a person’s posture and how easy they make a horse look to ride.<br/>2. Pleasure is the way a horse should look when showing in the class they’re participating in (<a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/300263500126896465/">hunt seat</a>, <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/126874914475048240/">western</a>, and there’s more but those are the two I’m focusing on in this fic because it’s what I, personally have the most experience with)<br/>3. All of the horses the babies show on are Arabians or half-Arabians (again because it’s what I have the most efficient experience with) <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/107382772339109022/">Star Ref (Katara’s mare)</a>. <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/126874914475048240">Boomerang Ref(Sokka’s gelding)</a>. <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/541487555185504811/">Druk Ref (yes he's the most extra because his owner is the Most Extra)</a> We’ll get to Appa when he shows up (mostly bc i haven't decided on his look lol.)<br/>This story is based in Shelbyville/Louisville, Kentucky because that’s the only show circuit I know anything about seeing as I took part in it for like 5 years in middle/high school.<br/>Anyway I’ve probably completely bored you away from this fic now, but hopefully not, so enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pakku looks like he’d rather be anywhere but having this conversation. His face is pinched, like he’s sucked on a particularly sour lemon, and he’s looking down his nose at Sokka like a bug he wants to squish with his shoe. Sokka would be more offended, but well…</p><p>“As much as I love and admire your sister, Sokka, I’m afraid you're just not...trainable.” Sokka can feel his sister’s look of pity on him as she lets Star cool down. He dutifully ignores it. “This is a competitive stable, and I just don’t see you becoming a competitive rider any time soon. I’ve done this much because I loved and admired your grandmother, but I’m afraid I can’t help you any further.” Sokka feels something in him harden at the mention of Gran-Gran, his face taking on a look of perfect neutrality. “I will give you until the end of the month to find new boarding arrangements for Boomerang. I’m sorry, Sokka,” is the last thing he says (though he looks anything but) before he walks off to begin another student’s lesson. </p><p>Sokka stands there, dejectedly, for what feels like hours but can’t possibly be more than a few seconds or so. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before searching for his sister once more. She’s no longer in the ring; Star is probably good and cooled off by now, so he goes into the main aisle of the barn and heads for the grooming stalls. Sure enough, Star is standing proudly in the crossties as Katara finishes untacking her. Her dapple grey fur is covered in sweat, meaning she’ll need more of a rinse off than a full post-ride groom, but Katara is nothing if not thorough and unsurprisingly picks up a curry comb to scratch at her mare’s neck and body. When she finally notices his presence, probably picking up on his sour mood, all she does is smile sadly at him. It’s not in pity like he had been fearing, but in understanding. She knows how much this means to him.</p><p>Growing up, going to his mom’s family’s Lexington ranch had been his favorite thing to do. She tried taking them once a week, letting Sokka sit in front of her in her big western saddle as she worked some of the tamer and easier to manage horses out. By the time Katara was old enough to follow in her big brother’s footsteps, Kya had gotten sick, and their visits to the ranch had become less and less frequent before stopping altogether. Their mother no longer had the strength to make the drive or work the horses, and while their dad loved the horses through his love for Kya, he didn’t have the time to take them as he spent whatever time he wasn’t working taking care of their mom. It was disappointing at first; it was his favorite weekend adventure, but as he grew up and took the time to grieve and heal, he understood that priorities had needed to change. When he let himself get back into it, Katara tagging along because she wanted to feel closer to their mother just like Sokka did, it was like a breath of fresh air. The first time he ever sat back in a saddle, it felt like coming home.</p><p>He sighs. Guess it just wasn’t meant to last. </p><p>“Pakku doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Sokka, you’re a great rider,” Katara’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and when he clues back in, he feels his hand rubbing absently at Star’s forehead. He looks over to his sister, blushing sheepishly at her simultaneous look of smugness for catching him off guard and sympathy because she probably can guess what he was thinking about. Sokka steps to the side, helping Katara release the crossties as she hooks the lead rope to the halter and leading the mare to the designated bathing area. Sokka dutifully unravels the hose and turns the water on, a routine they established ages ago with one another. “You’re not a bad rider, Sokka. Maybe you lack the amount of...focus Pakku would want you to have, but no one’s western equitation is as good as yours.” When she looks back his way, Sokka makes sure he shows his gratitude.</p><p>“Thanks, Kit-Kat,” he replies, laughing at the face she makes at her childhood nickname. “I dunno, maybe Pakku’s right. Every instructor I’ve had before him has said something along those same lines, so why shouldn’t I believe it by now?”</p><p>“Because they think your ADHD is some awful curse you can pass on to them, not something they feel the need to understand and adjust their teaching styles for.” There’s a pause, and Sokka can tell she’s rolling her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with you, numbskull, unless you count your inability to remember to throw away the empty milk carton when you’re done with it.” Sokka sticks his tongue out at her, and Katara rolls her eyes. “Of course, he couldn’t have picked a worse possible time to do this; the new show season starts in a month, and you have to participate in every qualifying show between now and regionals to even get a shot at nationals. Dick.”</p><p>As they’ve been talking, Star grazes on some nearby clover while they’ve been finishing rinsing her off. When they’re done, Sokka rolls the hose back up and shuts the water off, laughing when he turns around to find Katara covered in water. Using the flat side of a shedding blade, Sokka helps swipe off all the excess water before they make their way back inside. Sokka looks around, taking everything in once more. This...will probably be the last time he comes here. He loves Katara and will go to all of her upcoming shows and competitions, but now that he’s free from Pakku’s horrendous attitude, he’s not going to subject himself to it more than necessary. A comforting hand lands on his shoulder, so he takes a deep breath and heads for the exit. If there’s one person that’s always believed in him, it’s Katara. He may not always deserve it, he can be an ass on the worst of days, but even then, he makes sure she knows how much he loves her at the end of the day. As they hop in Katara’s old Malibu, Sokka takes in the view one more time: the beautiful pastures that separate the horses by gender, the view of people working horses in the outside ring when the weather’s nice, foals as they frolic through the fields as they’re still learning to get used to their legs. And when Katara pulls out of the driveway towards their weekly lunch with Toph, Sokka doesn’t look back.</p><p>-x-</p><p>“What a dick,” comes the expected response from Toph, drawing a snort from Sokka. Also expectedly, Katara makes a face of disgust at their loud and “inappropriate behavior,” but Sokka knows she doesn’t mean it. She and Toph thrive off of getting under each other’s skin, but really they’re like sisters. Toph was there and ready to pound Jet into Jet-<em> juice </em> when he broke Katara’s heart, and Katara was there with open arms when Toph got into the last big fight with her parents, resulting in them kicking her out of their home. She has a new guardian now, someone she just calls <em> Uncle </em>, and he is much more kind-hearted than her parents ever were. “I’m sorry, Sokka. I know how much showing means to you.”</p><p>Sokka can’t help but give her a small smile, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand in thanks, making sure she feels his appreciation. She rolls her eyes, pulling her hand away, but she kicks his leg to show she understands. She’s never really been a very touchy-feely person, but she shows her affection in other ways. “Pakku and I never really got along, anyway. I was bound to leave there sooner or later; it was just a matter of when.” Katara looks ready to protest, on whose behalf he isn’t sure, but when Sokka raises an eyebrow at her, she huffs and takes another sip of her tea instead.</p><p>“He isn’t <em> that </em> bad--” she tries to stay, but Toph cuts her off.</p><p>“Didn’t he refuse to teach you at first because he was an <em> all boy’s barn </em>?” Toph raises a pointed eyebrow, Sokka raising one of his own to match as he puffs out his chest in victory. Katara doesn’t seem to have a response to that, so she slumps in her chair and mumbles at them under her breath. “What was that, Sugar Queen? I didn’t quite catch it.”</p><p>“I <em> said </em>, I don’t know why I put up with you two. Always ganging up on me. Yes, Pakku was a misogynistic asshat that only let me join the barn when he realized who our grandmother was, but he was still an excellent instructor.” </p><p>“Whatever you say, ‘Tara,” Sokka replies. For a moment, they sit in companionable silence. Katara sips more at her tea while Sokka pulls out his phone. He’s just finished replying to his dad about his day when Toph bangs a fist on the table, causing near-everyone in the cafe to jump.</p><p>“I am such a genius; you can thank me now, Snoozles,” she says, sitting tall with pride. When neither Katara nor Sokka reply, both busy giving each other inquisitive looks, she huffs and continues on. “Uncle has a barn; you can ride there. His prices are a little steeper than Pakku’s, but I’m sure he’d be willing to make something work. As a special favor to his favorite adopted daughter.” She’s beaming at them, clearly very proud of herself, but Sokka doesn’t know if it’s such a good idea. Sokka could barely afford Pakku’s rates as it was; he doubts he’ll be able to afford whatever the infamous ‘Uncle’ charges. </p><p>But then he thinks about his mother.</p><p>He thinks about how she had always made showing sound so exhilarating and how full of life her eyes were when she talked about it. He started riding for her, and though he came to love it as his own sport, he will never stop <em> riding </em> for her. So he looks at Katara and her curious and thoughtful look that means she’s weighing the pros and cons of a potential situation. He looks at Toph, at how proud she looks at the fact that she was able to help her friends in their time of need and how she’s barely hiding the nervous energy that’s built up in her body following the new silence. Showing is something he grew to love under his mother’s guidance, and he would do anything to keep her memory alive. So he nudges Toph’s foot under the table, smiling at how she loosens her shoulders. He makes eye contact with Katara, sharing a knowing and understanding look with his sister. Then, he claps his hands together and says;</p><p>“Hope you’re ready for a little competition, Kit-Kat. ‘Cause I’m taking you down at Nationals.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>The next day, Toph calls him simply to say, “Jasmine Dragon Stables, Saturday 9 am, don’t be late.” He doesn’t have a chance to even thank her before the phone line goes dead, and he’s left staring at his phone like he’s stuck in some weird dream-stasis. He shrugs it off, turning his attention back to his watercolor painting. This one is of Katara, her posture tall and proud as she canters Star around the arena with perfect posture. Though Boomerang is versatile enough for multiple riding styles, English had never really appealed to Sokka. Katara, however, was a natural, and it showed in the many blue and red ribbons she had strung across her bedroom wall. </p><p>Sokka was the complete opposite. While he’s participated in his fair share of English-related classes at the few shows he has gone to, Western has always been his true calling. Western and English pleasure were almost polar opposites. Where English styles of riding were controlled and busy, Western was calm and, if you knew what you were doing, almost lazy. Western riding was much less controlling than that of hunt-seat or saddle-seat and definitely more relaxed. And Sokka was far from lazy, he put his all into his riding, but he would pick the languid feeling of a western lope over the frantic, almost stutter-step of an English canter any day. </p><p>Sokka voice-notes a, <em> “thanks, toph, I owe you one,” </em> in response, and goes to tell his family the news. Katara is, of course, excited for him. Both because her brother gets another chance to do something he loves and because that means she’ll have <em> real </em> competition throughout this year’s show circuit. His dad smiles warmly at him, pulling him into a tight hug to tell him, “I’m sorry things with Pakku didn’t work out. I hope this ‘Uncle’ character is a better teacher,” before he slips out the door for the date he thinks they don’t know about with his childhood best friend. He exchanges a look with his sister before Katara <em> also </em> slips out for a date. <em> Ugh, he’s surrounded by lovesick dummies.  </em></p><p>The rest of the week passes by in a blur; Sokka goes to classes in the morning, trains Boomerang for about an hour every afternoon, then goes to work in the evenings. He ends each night having dinner with his dad and Katara (when they’re not sneaking off on dates, which, <em> gross </em>) and then does homework until he passes out for the night.</p><p>Uncle’s—and he really hopes he learns this man's name today—is a good thirty minutes across town <em> without </em> traffic, so Sokka is up bright and ridiculously early at 7:30. On a <em> Saturday </em> . He throws on some riding pants and a tank top, grabbing his boots to put on when he gets to the stable. He feeds and walks Momo, Katara’s annoying ass husky, whips himself up a fried egg and some turkey bacon, and is out the door by 8:15. He does, of course, hit traffic on the way so he’s pulling up the long gravel driveway to JDS with barely two minutes to spare. The property is far back from the main road, with lots of beautiful green pastures filled with even more beautiful horses. The weather is beautiful today, so some of the foals he sees are running and playing with one another. The ones he assumes are older are laid out enjoying the rare, cool breeze. When he finally does park in front of the nondescript little house, he hardly registers the fucking <em> Bentley </em> he walks by in his haste to get his boots on and get inside the stable. When he does, he can’t help but gawk a little bit. It’s easily three times the size of his old barn, with an actual loft above the stalls and stalls that are big enough for humans to live in if decorated properly. It’s pretty quiet inside, and when Sokka does a quick casing of the place, he realizes it’s because no one’s in here. He frowns, but then the voice of an older man drifts down the barn aisle, and Sokka finds himself following it without even thinking. </p><p>The sound leads Sokka to an outdoor arena behind the barn. It’s huge, twice as long as the arena that is actually a part of the barn itself, and Sokka forces himself not to gawk (both at its size and the equally impressive shed that probably houses training equipment) as he shuffles quickly toward it. When he reaches his destination, there’s another student already in the ring. He’s riding a beautiful, tall chestnut and seems to be handling it with the ease of someone with years of practice. An older man stands in the middle, observing, “Ease up on your left hand, Zuko, you don’t want him getting too wound up.” The rider—Zuko—does as he’s told, or at least Sokka’s assuming he did, seeing as the old man doesn’t give him any more instruction. He may not be able to see the rider that well, but Sokka can tell that he’s extremely skilled at this. His horse’s neck is damn near perfectly arched, its canter much more smooth than Sokka’s ever seen Star look. The way he’s sitting in his saddle makes him look almost regal, like a lost prince on his way home with his black hair flowing out from under his helmet. Sokka can’t help but stare, so that is, of course, exactly when Mr. Regal looks up and catches him staring. Sokka can barely see his face, but if it’s anything like Sokka’s, he’s sure it’s red with embarrassment.</p><p>The old man must notice the rider’s change in focus, as he turns his own eyes towards Sokka. Despite their distance, Sokka can see the beaming grin on the man’s face as he walks his way. “Finish one more lap at this speed, then practice your downward transition. If he can do it without breaking frame, you can walk Druk out, Zuko.” Sokka can’t help but glance at the other boy. <em> Zuko </em>. For some reason, Sokka’s almost sure he’s heard that name somewhere. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it before the old man is stepping out of the arena and stretching his arms towards Sokka. When said boy reaches out for a handshake, the old man just chuckles as he pulls Sokka in for a hug instead. Not sure what to do, Sokka stands there somewhat awkwardly until this touchy stranger lets him go. He does so a second later, letting out a full-belly laugh. “I apologize for my forwardness. My nephew is often telling me to be cautious of other people’s physical boundaries.” He stretches out his hand--singular--once more. “My name is Iroh Hidaka, but you may call me Uncle,” he smiles as Sokka finally takes his hand. Something about that last name is familiar, but Sokka can't quite put his finger on it. “You must be Toph’s friend, Sokka. It is so nice to meet you.”</p><p>“You too, sir. And I just wanna thank you for giving me a chance to ride with you. I’ve never been with a show stable long enough to complete an entire circuit, and I’m just really grateful for you giving me the opportunity.” Sokka cringes as he spills his life story to Toph’s guardian, but the man just smiles softly in understanding. His presence is more comforting than Sokka was expecting, and he makes a mental reminder to buy Toph something special the next time he can afford to. “Toph didn’t give me too many details about your stable or how payments or any of that work, but I’m sure she’s told you everything about me. What kind of contract or agreement will we be getting into?” Iroh’s—he’s just met the guy he’s not going to jump straight into familiarities—look of surprise when Sokka admits to not knowing his barn’s name is there and gone in a flash, replaced with a warm smile. Sokka smiles back. </p><p>“Yes, Toph did explain some of your situation to me. It is sad what happened with your previous instructor, as he is a good friend of mine and I expected more from him, but do not worry. I do not judge my riders based on any unavoidable ‘dispositions’ they might have. I will give you twice a week lessons for two weeks to see how you and your horse work together and how you react to different kinds of instruction. Once I have looked at that, we can look at how to move forward with your lessons, and if showing is something you are still interested in, we will look at what shows and classes you need to be put in to qualify for regionals first, then nationals. Now I understand that payment is something of a concern, both for boarding and lessons, but do not worry. Whatever you were paying at Pakku’s, you will also pay here, but to make up the difference, I will require you to work for me on Saturdays and Sundays around the farm. Do you have any questions for me?” </p><p>As Iroh was talking, they’ve been walking back towards and through the barn. Other workers are moving up and down the aisles and in and out of storerooms. At some point, a cute tortoiseshell kitten weaved its way through his legs, yowling at him until he gave it his attention and held it as they walked. Iroh’s piled kind of a lot of information onto him at once, but he can’t really complain. Iroh’s facility clearly outranks Pakku’s in more ways than one, and the fact that he’s willing to be so accommodating—whether it’s because he’s a friend of Toph’s or because he’s genuinely a nice guy—is something Sokka’s not going to turn down. His dad tries to help when he can, but only really when it comes to his show clothes and fees. Boarding and lessons have always been his responsibility once he was old enough to work, especially since his dad was the one to foot the bill to buy Boomerang and Star for him and Katara in the first place. Essentially, Sokka owes Toph big time, and he knows she’ll never let him forget it. </p><p>“No, sir, no questions. But like, I want to thank you ‘cause riding and showing is the only thing I really have left of my mom, and I was really worried after Pakku kicked me out that I’d lose the one connection to her I have. Not,” Sokka cringes; he really wishes he could control his babbling more, “that you asked for life’s story or anything, I’m just. I’m thankful. Truly.” The tortoiseshell squirms its way under his chin, kneading at his collarbone at what is probably a weak attempt at being comforting, but Sokka appreciates it all the same. </p><p>“Worry not, young man. I know a thing or two about holding onto the memory of loved ones lost.” His face takes on a sad expression for just a moment before movement towards the exit they came through catches both of their attention. The rider—what was his name? Zak? Zuko?—is bringing his horse in from its workout. He smiles at his companion, having a private conversation with the gelding like he hasn’t noticed Iroh &amp; Sokka standing further down the aisle yet. As he walks, he reaches up to unfasten his helmet and pull it off in one swift motion. Sokka thinks that Iroh might still be talking to him, but if you quizzed the younger man on it later, Sokka wouldn’t remember a word he said.</p><p>Because if Sokka was impressed with how Zuko looked while riding, that’s nothing compared to how he looks when he’s just walking down the aisle (ha), seemingly unaware of anyone else’s presence, completely at ease with his four-legged companion. It’s clear that Zuko adores his gelding; he’s got a small, almost secret smile on his face as he gently strokes its neck. His light brown eyes--almost golden in the sunlight patches he walks through--are soft and unguarded, almost the opposite of the somber and focused expression Sokka caught a glimpse of when he was on horseback. The contrast is so stark that Sokka doesn’t even notice the scar covering half the rider’s face until Zuko’s eyes pass over Iroh and looks directly at him, causing his face to become impassive and stony once again. Sokka tries not to take it personally, but it’s kinda hard to do when Sokka knows he hasn’t given the other boy any reason to be so closed off around him. Thankfully, Iroh saves him from the embarrassment of pouting like a toddler.</p><p>“Ah, my darling nephew. Did Druk enjoy the rest of your workout?” Sokka blanches at “my nephew,” but snaps out of his daze to awkwardly shift on his feet as he looks between the other two. Zuko’s gaze shifts back to his uncle, and this time Sokka can’t help the disappointed feeling he gets at the obvious shift in the other boy’s demeanor.</p><p>“Yes, uncle. Next lesson, can we add poles to his workout? He feels like he’s getting a little heavy on his front feet.” Iroh nods his approval, opening his mouth to reply. He doesn’t get the chance, however, as Zuko shoves his horse’s--Druk? What the hell kind of name is that--reins in Sokka’s direction and talks over his uncle. “When you take the bit out of his mouth, he’s gonna try and nip at your fingers, but he doesn’t mean any harm; he’s just playing around.” Sokka grabs the reins before they hit the ground, fumbling to hold his feline friend in one hand as he does so. Zuko continues on like nothing’s even happening. </p><p>“Use the green brush when you groom him; I’m not sure why but it’s his favorite one. Pick his hooves <em> after </em>you rinse him off; otherwise you’ll have to do it twice, and there’s no reason to crest more work for yourself.” He turns back to his uncle, a clear dismissal that causes him to sputter in response. Iroh looks like he can’t decide if he wants to step in or watch it all play out. </p><p>Sokka’s got a feeling Uncle—<em> Iroh </em> and he will get along just fine. You know, once Sokka’s done putting Mr. Regal <em> Jerk </em> in his place. </p><p>“<em> Excuse you </em> ? I’m not just some lowly stable hand that’s here to clean up after you. You rode the beast, so <em> you </em> take care of him. And even if I were a stable hand or groomer, I’d still tell you no. Have you literally ever heard of manners? My money’s on no given your stick-in-the-ass attitude. That’s probably your pretentious truck outside, isn’t it?”</p><p>“What does my truck have to do with—”</p><p>“Don’t interrupt me,” he said in a voice that makes him sound obnoxiously like Katara, but he continues, “ And another thing—” Suddenly, Iroh is stepping in between them, a calming hand placed on both of their chests as he gently pushes them away from each other. Unknowingly, Sokka has put himself all up in Zuko’s space, Zuko’s back reclining against his horse’s side. Sokka tries not to let himself be distracted at the light freckles that lightly trail under the other boy’s right eye. (He dutifully ignores the realization that they’d probably be scattered under his left eye, too, if it wasn’t because of—) At his shouting, the tortoiseshell had kept out of his arms and Druk is stomping in anticipation. Sokka immediately feels bad; not because of the bewildered and taken aback look on Zuko’s face, but because animals don’t deserve to be stressed out like that. Especially when it isn’t their fault that their owner is a fucking jerk. </p><p>“I believe there has been a misunderstanding,” Iroh says apologetically. He gently takes Druk’s reins and hands them back to Zuko. “Sokka, this is my beloved nephew, Zuko. He lacks certain social mannerisms due to...well a past that is his to tell.”</p><p>“<em> Uncle </em>.”</p><p>“Zuko, this is Toph’s friend Sokka. He is your new student.”</p><p>“His <em> what </em>?!”</p><p>-x-</p><p>“Seriously, Toph, why didn’t you warn me that Iroh’s nephew was a <em> complete jackass </em> ?! I’m not <em> that </em> horrible of a student am I? And if I was, how the hell would he know; he just took his precious <em> Druk </em> and stormed off from everyone! I thought you said <em> Uncle </em>was going to be my instructor, not his bratty and stuck-up nephew.” Sokka has been pacing and ranting since he got home from meeting the uncle-nephew duo. Katara is watching with a combination of amusement and worry on her face, though the worry isn’t really all that effective when she rolls her eyes at his incessant yelling. Toph has been uncharacteristically quiet as Sokka has gone on, something that he is choosing to be grateful for because normally she doesn’t let anyone get a word in edgewise about anything. Apparently, he’s spoken too soon, because—</p><p>“Are you done yet, Snoozles?” Sokka splutters in protest and Katara <em> laughs </em> (the audacity), but Toph keeps on going, “I’m not going to apologize because I genuinely thought that Uncle was going to be your teacher, but Zuko’s not so bad. Maybe a little prickly around the edges, but he generally is a sweet guy. At least, to me and Uncle he is. He just doesn’t handle new people, or surprises, that well.”</p><p>“That’s the understatement of the year.”</p><p>“Just...give him a chance, okay? I know he’s not easy at first, but he’s worth getting to know, I promise. He’s been teaching Aang—you remember Aang right—and he’s actually a pretty good teacher. I’ve gotta go—Uncle’s dragging me along to go pick up Boomerang for you. Now, if it’ll make you feel better, you can bring Katara along for your lesson and I’ll even try to make a special appearance just for you.” There’s some commotion in the background that causes her to shout indistinctly to someone nearby. When she comes back all she has time to say is, “Love you both, tell him to loosen up some Sugar Queen,” and then the phone hangs up. </p><p>Katara is full out laughing at them, so Sokka picks up a pillow and throws it at her. Because she has the reflexes of a cat, she dodges it and flips him off all without even looking up from her phone. Hakoda comes downstairs in a rush to work shouting “Don’t be rude to your brother, ‘Tara,” as he grabs his lunch and runs out the door. Sokka laughs and Katara grumbles under her breath. A text comes through from Iroh that they’ve successfully picked up Boomerang and that she was an angel (obviously) and he promises to keep him updated on how she does with the transition. Sighing, he plops down on the couch and puts his head in his sister’s lap. Because this is a thing they’ve done a million times before, she’s already there with her fingers in his hair. </p><p>“I understand where you’re coming from, you know,” Katara says. Sokka hums in question, eyes closed in content but his attention fully on his sister. “With the whole Zuko thing. It’s kinda how I felt when Pakku shot me down when I first wanted to get into competitive riding. He was so set on keeping his boys-only-neanderthal way of thinking that it made him rude and acting like a prick. But once I proved myself, once we were willing to give each other a chance, we developed a really nice trainer-trainee relationship. You might even say we respect each other now</p><p>“I know it’s not quite the same thing; I wasn’t there and don’t know Zuko, so I can’t tell you what to do. But I doubt Toph—or this Uncle Iroh character, for that matter—would vouch for this guy without good reason. You should just...give him a chance, like Toph said—at least for the four lesson trial period Iroh’s offering. If he’s really still that much of a dick afterwards, then we’ll go from there. But don’t let a first meeting ruin your dreams and get in the way of your goals. You deserve a proper teacher.” </p><p>With that, she dislodges Sokka’s head from her lap and goes to the kitchen to start dinner. If there’s anyone who could have any empathy towards Sokka’s situation, Katara is definitely it. Pakku was a total ass when Katara wanted to take lessons from him, and it was through her perseverance and stubbornness alone that she was ever able to get through the old man’s thick skull and convince him to let her ride. It was kinda ridiculous, when you think about it, that there are still people that are sexist in the world, but he was proud of his sister when she earned her spot amongst “the boys.” </p><p>Sokka must doze off for a short while, because he wakes up to Katara shoving him to one side of the couch and putting a plate of spaghetti in front of him. He smiles at her in thanks, and they settle in to watch Christina fall in love with an army surgeon with a ridiculously high pain tolerance. His phone buzzes again after another short time with another from Iroh confirming their arrival at the estate. There are some pictures attached, and it is purely because of his curiosity that he opens them at all. (It, of course has nothing to do with maybe wanting to admire Zuko’s stupid but attractive face again). The first few are of Iroh holding Boomerang’s lead, her head held high and ears perked as she takes in her new surroundings. Toph is in one of them, standing carefully to the side with her hand resting calmly on Boomerang’s neck. The last one, though...Sokka’s going to have to paint it soon. </p><p>Zuko clearly doesn’t know the picture’s being taken, otherwise Sokka’s sure the other boy’s face would be set in a scowl. Instead, he’s standing directly in front of Sokka’s dappled-grey baby, face soft and warm. He’s gently holding the lead in one hand, the other resting gently on Boomerang’s face. Boomerang’s head is lowered slightly, ears lazily flicked forward as she stretches her head towards Zuko’s chest, probably sniffing for treats. Zuko’s eyes are slightly crinkled at the side, and when Sokka’s focuses a little more, he can tell it’s because the other boy is <em> smiling </em> . And <em> actually smiling </em>, not the fake, stiff thing he was wearing when Sokka left earlier that afternoon. It’s a good look on him, and Sokka finds himself staring at the picture for much longer than he intends to. </p><p>When Katara kicks him, one eyebrow raised as she flits her gaze between Sokka’s face and his phone, he simply kicks her back as he quickly locks his phone and tries to tune back into whatever drama he tuned out from that was going on at Seattle Grace Hospital. His mind can’t help but wander, to how short his breath felt when he was up in Zuko’s space; to the content look Zuko wore when he was walking Druk down the barn aisle; to the content and happy look he wore in the picture where he’s bonding with Boomerang (<em> Sokka’s </em> Boomerang). He thinks about all of that, about how highly Iroh has spoken of his nephew; about Toph’s plea to give her pseudo-brother a chance, because he deserves it like everyone else; about Katara’s words of guidance. In that moment, Sokka decide <em> fuck it </em>, because what could he possibly lose from giving this a try. He’s not going to let one shit encounter with a stranger effect the goals he has for himself. </p><p>He should really know better than to tempt fate.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m on <a href="%E2%80%9Czukkadaemons.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D">tumblr!</a> (where you can find my ko-fi)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>shoutout to my lovely beta <a href="https://tak-cajaz.tumblr.com/">kat</a> for following me from my failed tangled au to this hopefully-not-a-failure fic i actually have the knowledge to write about :)<br/>you can buy me a <a href="https://ko-fi.com/nycoleatnight">ko-fi</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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